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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24013888">You're my what?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesherlockianwhjustcant/pseuds/thesherlockianwhjustcant'>thesherlockianwhjustcant</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Laurenpleasewritethese [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angel Castiel (Supernatural), BAMF Dean Winchester, BAMF Sam Winchester, Canon? what Canon, Castiel Has Powers (Supernatural), Gates of Hell, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Nemeton, Sam Winchester's Demonic Powers, Scott McCall &amp; Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Supernatural Elements, Witch Stiles Stilinski, Witchcraft, Witches</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:41:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,713</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24013888</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesherlockianwhjustcant/pseuds/thesherlockianwhjustcant</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Noah Stilinski prided himself on being a good father. Not only was he a very attentive and dedicated dad, he also tried as hard as he could to never lie to his son. Even then it came to his work, he only lied when he absolutely had to. Stiles was a curious one, anyway, it was easier to just tell him what was going on because if you didn’t, he’d likely find out. </p><p>But there was one secret Stiles didn’t know, and it was one that Noah had no plans to disclose to his son.</p><p>However, life really was a grade-A bitch sometimes, and it didn’t matter whether or not he had plans because life did.<br/>--<br/>Or how Stiles accidentally discovered the truth about his extended family.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Laurenpleasewritethese [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1731895</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>92</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Browniesarethebest/gifts">Browniesarethebest</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Stiles’ lungs burned as he gulped in the icy Autumn air. Running through the woods, his muscles ached, and his chest hurt, and he thought he just might pass out if he didn’t stop soon, but he couldn’t stop. Not until he was safe, until he reached the highway or his car or he found Scott— because <em>god</em> <em>where the fuck had he gone?</em> </p><p>It was as if his thought summoned him because not even a second later, Stiles ran into Scott. Literally. They clashed together painfully, knocking each other to the forest floor. Stiles panted, rolling around in the leaves. Scott didn’t fare much better as he wheezed next to him, almost as if he had asthma again.</p><p>“What the hell, man?” Stiles whisper-yelled. “Where did you go?”</p><p>“I just got turned around,” Scott answered between breaths.</p><p>Stiles rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything else. He tried to slow his breathing enough so that he could better listen to his surroundings. He waited a few seconds and didn’t hear anything, so he assumed the coast must be clear. He sagged in relief. And then—</p><p>
  <em> Snap!  </em>
</p><p>“Shit,” Stiles released as a breath. He rolled onto his hands and knees and pushed himself up so that he was standing. He pulled Scott up on to his feet too as he scanned the area. “They’re still out here,” he whispered.</p><p>He couldn’t see them, though, no matter how hard he tried. He heard the rustling, though, and that was enough to pump up his adrenaline.</p><p>“We gotta move,” he said, pushing Scott into action. </p><p>Scott took off with Stiles on his coattails. It just <em> had </em> to be a New Moon tonight, didn’t it? Not only was it dark as shit as they ran through the woods, but Scott was at his weakest point right now, unable to use really any of his werewolf abilities to their advantage.</p><p>After what seemed like forever, they finally, <em> finally </em> reached the entrance to the forest, and they made a beeline for Stiles’ Jeep. Stiles fumbled with the keys before they hopped in, and he locked it again. </p><p>For a moment, they each just sat there, breathing heavily and sagging against the car seats, finding solace in the perceived safety of the car.</p><p>Stiles released a breath. “Let’s get out of here.”</p><p>Scott nodded as Stiles started the Jeep and peeled out of the parking area. Neither of them spoke until they made it to the road, and they were among other cars. Even then, it took a solid ten minutes for either of them to break the silence. </p><p>“Are you hurt?” Scott asked.</p><p>Stiles shook his head. “Nah, you?”</p><p>Out of his peripheral vision, he saw Scott shake his head. He knew the likelihood of Scott being hurt was far less than Stiles, but it was still possible, so he still asked. He let out a small sigh of relief. Somehow, they’d made it out of there alive. </p><p>Another few moments passed in silence before Scott asked, “What were those things?”</p><p>Stiles swallowed a lump in his throat, his stomach twisting in fear, his eyes still wide from disbelief. “No idea.”</p><p>*****</p><p>When they got back to Stiles’ house, they rushed inside, closing and locking the door behind them. And to be safe, Stiles put a line of Mountain Ash in front of the door frame— even though he had no idea if it would protect them from whatever the hell was in the forest. </p><p>Stiles’ heart still beat rapidly in his chest, but his adrenaline was fading. Scott still seemed to be pretty shaken up too, so at least Stiles wasn’t alone. </p><p>They went to the living room and sat on the couch. Minutes passed in silence, neither of them ready to speak, to speculate wildly of what they’d just seen. That was part of the problem, though, wasn’t it? They hadn’t <em> seen </em> anything. They had only <em> heard </em> whatever it was that was chasing them. They sounded like dogs, but… Stiles hadn’t seen anything. He swore they were close enough to see, but he’d never caught a glimpse. Even when they were in a better-lit part of the woods, he couldn’t make them out. </p><p>“Could you smell them?” Stiles asked suddenly. </p><p>Scott jumped at Stiles’ voice. He frowned. “Um, now that you mention it, no, I don’t think I could.”</p><p>“You had to have seen one of them, though?”</p><p>Scott shook his head. “Nope. I don’t think they ever got close enough.”</p><p>Stiles groaned in frustration. “I swear they were.”</p><p>“I think if they were close enough for us to see them, we’d be dead.”</p><p>Stiles nodded, fair point. They fell back into silence for a while after that, both of them consumed with thought. Eventually, Stiles grew antsy as his adrenaline wore off, and he returned to his usual self. He figured they should probably talk about the other… event, for lack of a better word. </p><p>“So about the other thing…” he trailed off, unsure what to say.</p><p>Scott grimaced. “Now <em> that </em> I saw.”</p><p>“What do you think it was?”</p><p>Scott shrugged. “It just looked like… smoke. Really, really thick smoke.”</p><p>Stiles nodded. “Yeah, but it wasn’t smoke, right? I mean, it was some sort of— of… some sort of creature, right?”</p><p>“Honestly, man, I have no idea.”</p><p>Stiles huffed a breath. All this because there were reports of electrical storms in Beacon Hills, and they thought it might have something to do with the Nemeton. If this <em> was </em> because of that dumb tree, Stiles was gonna lose it. But what they saw tonight was certainly nothing they’d ever seen before, and it certainly wasn’t an electrical storm either. </p><p>“Look, I know I’m a werewolf and shit, but…” Scott looked sheepish for a moment. “But my mom’s working the night shift, and I don’t wanna be home alone, can I crash?”</p><p>“Dude, my dad’s working the night shift too. You’re not going anywhere. I sure as shit don’t wanna be alone either.”</p><p>Scott grinned and sat back in his seat, relieved.</p><p>After that, they both seemed to want to move on and pretend like they were having a normal night. So Stiles re-heated some leftovers from last night’s dinner, and they curled up on the couch to watch TV. A couple hours in, and Scott was snoring on one end of the couch with Stiles nodding off on the other side. </p><p>And then the front door burst open. </p><p>Stiles screamed and jumped up, scrambling away from the door, backing further into the living room. Scott also leapt off the couch and turned to face the entry hall. A long few moments passed, and nothing happened. It was silent save for the howling wind outside. Stiles started to relax, to believe that maybe the wind blew the door open. But then he saw it.</p><p>Black smoke slithering into the house along the floor. It moved as if it had its own mind. It looked like a living, breathing creature, minus the form to contain it. As it drew closer, Stiles felt himself freeze up in fear, though he couldn’t say why. Perhaps it was the smell, putrid and rotten. Almost like death itself. Scott, too, didn’t move as if he felt the same paralyzing fear. They thought they had escaped it, thought the Mountain Ash would keep it out. Apparently not. </p><p>The smoke drew closer and closer, and more followed closely behind it. And suddenly, Stiles thought, <em> this is it. This is the end. After all this, this is how I’m gonna die </em>.</p><p>And as quickly as that thought came and went, two men burst into the house, carrying shotguns. </p><p>“Sammy! There’s more behind us. Do it now!” The shorter one yelled at the other one.</p><p>“Dammit, Dean, I can’t just turn it on and off.”</p><p>Dean rolled his eyes as he ran over to Stiles and Scott. He pushed them together. “Listen to me,” he said, pulling a can of rock salt from a bag slung over his shoulder. He poured the salt on the floor in a circle around them. “Do <em> not </em> step a foot outside this circle, understand me?”</p><p>Stiles nodded, and he assumed Scott did too. Apparently, it wasn’t enough.</p><p>“Verbal yeses, guys, come <em> on </em>.”</p><p>“Yes,” Stiles and Scott said in unison.</p><p>With that, Dean turned back to face the ever-encroaching smoke. He aimed and shot at it. He seemed to hit it, but where his ammo hit, the smoke disappeared, which Stiles supposed that was what they wanted, but…</p><p>“<em> Sam </em>!”</p><p>“Dude, I’m trying. Give me a sec.”</p><p>Dean looked out the living room window from where he stood and added, “We don’t got a sec, it’s now or never!”</p><p>Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath in. When he opened them, his pupils had engulfed his irises, turning his eyes completely black. He raised an arm, and all the remaining smoke stopped cold in its tracks. After a few moments, the floor beneath it burned like coals before the smoke evaporated completely. Sam blinked, and his eyes returned to normal. He wiped a small bit of blood from his nose, but he otherwise looked okay. </p><p>Dean tossed him another can of salt, which he grabbed out of the air, and then he and his… friend? Partner? Stiles wasn’t sure. They then began laying salt along the windows and doors of the house. </p><p>Once they were done, they returned to Scott and Stiles. </p><p>Dean gave them a scrutinizing glare. Sam’s was less intense, but it held just as much scrutiny.</p><p>“What do you think?” Dean asked.</p><p>Sam shrugged. “It’s hard to tell. Let’s just test them.”</p><p>Stiles frowned. “What the—” </p><p>He was interrupted by a splash of cool water across his face. He wiped his face, spitting the water onto the floor.</p><p>“What the <em> hell </em>?”</p><p>Dean made a small pouty face as if saying <em> okay, we’re good </em>, before he said, “Feel free to step out of the circle.”</p><p>“You mind telling us who you are? Or what the hell that smoke was?”</p><p>“Not really,” Dean answered him before turning to Sam. “Any word from Crowley?”</p><p>Sam shook his head. “Cas?”</p><p>Dean grunted his no. “Dammit, they should be here by now.”</p><p>Stiles looked to Scott, who just shrugged, before trying again. “Okay, listen, you came into <em> my </em> house, shot up my floor, did some weird magic mojo stuff to get rid of the smoke, and now you won’t even tell us what’s going on? Just tell us—”</p><p>“Yeah, we did all that to save your life, kid. You’re welcome,” Dean cut him off. </p><p>“Dean,” Sam said with a hint of sternness. “Just… just tell them.”</p><p>Dean rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to speak, but he never got the chance. Loud, menacing barking turned his face serious, and he ran to the door. Scott and Stiles followed him. On top of the salt, Dean poured a black powder along the door. Then he backed up into the entry hall and recocked his gun. He held it up, aimed at the door. </p><p>Sam came to stand behind him, pushing Stiles and Scott behind them, taking up a similar stance as Dean. </p><p>Stiles waited, listening as the barks and growls grew louder, as the creatures drew closer to the house. He realized they were the same ones from the forest, the same things they had run from just hours ago. What were they doing here? Had they followed them?</p><p>“Dammit,” Dean swore. “Where the hell is Crowley when you need him?”</p><p>Sam huffed a small breath that sounded like a laugh, but it held no humor. </p><p>Suddenly, the door started shaking, and it sounded like a pack of dogs was clawing at it, trying to break in. They barked and howled and snarled, and that same icy, paralyzing fear took over Stiles once again. He had half a mind to cling to Scott like a pair of characters in some cheesy horror movie, but he didn’t. </p><p>Swearing under his breath, Sam poured a circle of the same black powder Dean had used at the door. He enclosed all of them within it and said to the boys, “Don’t leave this circle.” His voice was kinder than Dean’s, but it was just as stern.</p><p>Scott and Stiles agreed in unison, “Okay.”</p><p>Then the door blew open. </p><p>Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Stiles didn’t see anything. There was nothing at the door. But he <em> heard </em> them. They were still barking. He was even more freaked out now, and he felt himself step closer to Scott. </p><p>Stiles hadn’t noticed, but the lines of salt and black powder were thinning, being blown away by some mystical force, and then one of the creatures was <em> inside the house </em>. The floor peeled itself up in ribbons as if a wolf were tearing into it with its claws. </p><p>Dean swore, aimed, and shot his gun… And apparently he hit something. There was a small yelp and the sound of a creature stumbling back, but Stiles could hear more entering the house. Sam started shooting, and soon enough, there was nothing but the sounds of gunfire and animal whines.</p><p>Minutes passed in what felt like seconds, and out of nowhere— literally <em> nowhere </em> — a man in a black suit showed up and yelled, “You didn’t have to bloody <em> shoot </em> them!”</p><p>“Fuck, Crowley, you’re a little late to the party, pal, mind calling off the hounds?” Dean yelled over the sounds of the dogs’ barking.</p><p>The newcomer simply raised a hand and snapped his fingers. The barking stopped, and the house was plunged into silence.</p><p>“They all gone?” Dean asked.</p><p>Crowley nodded. “Next time, just wait for me. And maybe leave me a bigger opening. I circled the house three times before I found it.”</p><p>“What were we supposed to do? Let them drag us to Hell?”</p><p>“I know your history with the Hounds is… let’s just say <em> complicated </em>, but the past is the past—”</p><p>“If you say I need to move on <em> one </em> more time, I swear—”</p><p>“All right, all right,” Sam said, stepping between them. He gave them both disapproving looks before focusing on Crowley. “Where’s Cas?”</p><p>“He’s cleaning up the woods.”</p><p>“And Rowena?” Dean asked.</p><p>“Oh, well, Mother is on her way.” Crowley rolled his eyes. “I suppose she thinks the later she gets here, the less work she has to do.”</p><p>“Um, hello?” Stiles yelled. “What the hell is going on? Who are <em> you </em> ? How did this British dude show up out of nowhere? What the <em> fuck </em> were those things? What is that black powder, what’s up with the salt, what was that smoke earlier, how did you guys know how to—”</p><p>“Do you ever shut up?” Crowley interrupted him.</p><p>“Only when I get answers.”</p><p>Dean rolled his eyes, and Sam looked upwards too, but he was the one to say, “Look, just sit down.”</p><p>Stiles and Scott slowly moved to the couch and took a seat. Sam, Dean, and Crowley followed them in, with Sam and Dean standing before the couch and Crowley off to the side, leaning against the wall and looking disinterested.</p><p>“My name is Sam Winchester, and this is my brother Dean. We’re—”</p><p>“You're hunters,” Scott interrupted. He stood up and backed away from them. Stiles’ eyes widened. </p><p>“Hunters?” Stiles looked at his friend.</p><p>“Allison’s dad’s mentioned them… What are you doing here? This area’s protected.”</p><p>Dean frowned, looking at Scott curiously. “Not very well, apparently.”</p><p>“He means from <em> you </em>,” Crowley interjected. “He’s a werewolf.”</p><p>Dean raised an eyebrow as Scott continued. “Like I said, this area is off-limits. So if you came for me, you’ll be breaking the code.”</p><p>At this, Sam and Dean exchanged a look and then burst into laughter. “The <em> code </em> ?” Dean said mockingly. “What <em> code </em>? We’re not pirates.” He shook his head. “Look, kid, cool your jets, okay. You’re the least of our worries right now. I’m not looking to kill any teenagers tonight. You try to pull any funny business, though, I’ll put you down without a second thought.”</p><p>Sam gave his brother a sidelong glance that Dean didn’t see, and then he continued where he left off. “So I guess you guys already know the monster-speech, then? Monsters are real, we hunt them, and—”</p><p>“Wait, monst-<em> ers </em> , plural? Monsters, <em> plural </em>?” Stiles interrupted. “We know of werewolves and kitsunes and nogitsunes and chimeras, but what else… what were those things from earlier?”</p><p>“The smoke wasn’t smoke,” Sam said. “They were demons. The things that sounded like dogs? Those were hell hounds.”</p><p>“There’s no such thing as demons! There can’t be,” Stiles’s first instinct was to deny what they said even though he couldn't offer a better explanation.</p><p>Crowley chimed in, then, and said, "'Fraid to break it to you, but there's one standing in your living room as we speak." He gave Stiles a wicked smile, his eyes flashing red.</p><p>Stiles swallowed a lump in his throat and refocused on Sam. "And you… you control them?"</p><p>Sam gave a small laugh and looked to the floor. "No. No, I, uh, well, it's complicated… I can exorcise demons and kill them with, uh, with my mind."</p><p>Stiles blinked rapidly trying to soak in the information. "I'm sorry, you can kill things <em> with your mind </em>?"</p><p>"Just demons," he corrected. "And sometimes I get premonitions. Like tonight, for instance."</p><p>"Tonight?" Stiles and Scott asked in unison. </p><p>"Yeah, I had a vision of the demons and the hell hounds attacking this house earlier. That’s how we got here in time."</p><p>Stiles was stunned speechless for a few moments, so Scott spoke up. “Why would they be attacking us like that?”</p><p>“That’s the thing,” Dean said. “Hell hounds don’t usually go after ‘innocent’ people. Their purpose is pretty simple— they collect payment when a deal comes to an end.”</p><p>“You two didn’t go making any deals with random strangers, did you? To get a girl, perhaps, or pass a math test?” Crowley asked, sounding as disinterested as possible.</p><p>Stiles and Scott both shook their heads. </p><p>“I just figured they followed us from the woods,” Stiles said.</p><p>Sam and Dean exchanged a curious look. “What were you doing in the woods?” Sam asked.</p><p>“There were reports of weird electrical storms near here, so we went to check out the Nemeton to see if—”</p><p>“What’s a Nemeton?” </p><p>Stiles frowned. “You guys know about demons, but you don’t know what a Nemeton is? It’s basically a sacred place where druids performed rituals. It’s literally an old tree stump in the woods.”</p><p>“Yes, Mother knows <em> all </em> about Nemeta,” Crowley sighed.</p><p>Stiles raised an eyebrow, to which Sam said, “She’s a witch,” as if that would explain it.</p><p>Stiles just shook his head. “Anyway, the Nemeton also acts as this huge neon sign to supernatural creatures, and its power draws them here. So we figured it might be what was causing these weird storms, but we never actually got there because we were chased off by what we now know were demons and hell hounds.”</p><p>There was a strange sound behind Stiles, something like a bird’s wings, and then a deep gravelly voice responded to him. “That would make sense since the stump of which you speak is located right above one of the Gates of Hell.”</p><p>Stiles jumped and spun around. A man in a long, tan trench coat with a blue tie stood behind the couch. His black hair was tousled, and his blue eyes roamed around the room. </p><p>“Who the hell are <em> you </em>?” Stiles screeched.</p><p>The man frowned and tilted his head to one side. “I’m Castiel. I’m an Angel of the Lord.”</p><p>“You’re an <em> angel </em>?” Scott asked, his voice laced with disbelief.</p><p>“Harp and all,” Dean quipped.</p><p>To which, Castiel rolled his eyes, looking exasperated. “For the last time, I do <em> not </em>have a harp.”</p><p>“I feel like I’m more confused now than when we started,” Stiles muttered.</p><p>To make matters even worse, yet <em> another </em> person showed up at his house. However, <em> this </em> person at least had the decency to knock. Stiles got up to answer the door, his head swimming with questions and confusion. As he neared the door, though, an odd sensation swam up his body, from the tips of his toes to the top of his head. It was like a faint electric current, growing stronger and stronger the closer he got to the door, and when he opened it, the current sparked and came alive. Before him stood a petite red-headed woman. Her pale skin gleamed in the dim light from the street lamps.</p><p>Her eyes met his and widened with what could only be recognition.</p><p>“Mieczyslaw?” His first name rolled off her tongue as naturally as it had his mother’s, and that’s when he recognized her, or rather, <em> parts </em>of her.</p><p>Her eyes, the same greenish-grey; her chin, filed to the same point; her hair, the same brilliant shade of red. So similar yet so different from his mother… </p><p>“Who…” he swallowed, his voice growing uncomfortably thick. “Who are you?”</p><p>The woman gave him a small, sad smile, almost apologetic. “Why, dear, I’m your grandmother.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Less action in this one, but I hope y'all like it! Thanks for all the kudos &amp; comments, they always make my day!</p><p>Happy reading!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Stiles started laughing. It was honestly a bit disturbing, the sound high-pitched and breathless. It was nearly hysterical, but after the night he’d had, who could blame him? </p><p>A moment or two passed before he gained control of himself and began shaking his head. “No, I’m sorry, that’s just not possible. My grandparents are dead.”</p><p>The woman at the door, who he could only assume to be Rowena based on context, grimaced, her lips thinning into a displeased line. “Yes, well, I’m sure that’s what Claudia <em> told </em> you, but I assure you it’s not true— at least, <em> I </em>am alive.” Her high-pitched voice was thick with a Scottish accent, but even that, he could not deny sounded eerily similar to his mother’s</p><p>Stiles almost started laughing again. “You really want me to believe you, a stranger, over my own mother?”</p><p>Her gaze met his unflinchingly. “You know it’s true, whether you want to deny it or not.” She gave him a knowing look as she stepped around him into the house. It was a look that said she felt it too, that she, too, saw the same family resemblance reflected in his face that he saw in hers. He swallowed and closed the door as he turned back to face the group of strangers (plus Scott) in his entry hall.</p><p>“Thanks for the help, Rowena,” Dean said gruffly.</p><p>She gave him a small smile. “Oh, Dean, don’t you know by now that I prefer <em> not </em> to be in the middle of the fighting?”</p><p>Dean rolled his eyes, shaking his head. </p><p>“Besides, you had it handled.”</p><p>“Handled?” Dean yelled. “We did <em> not </em> have it ‘handled’! Sam almost couldn’t exorcise the demons in time because <em> your </em> potion started wearing off!”</p><p>“That is <em> not </em> my fault. Samuel should have had enough to get him by for a week.”</p><p>The silence that followed was deafening. Stiles understood about five percent of what was going on, but as soon as Rowena spoke those words, he saw Dean’s face pale, and he knew Sam was about to be in a whole lot of trouble. He’d seen <em> that </em>face before— on his father.</p><p>Dean turned to look at his brother. “Somethin’ you wanna tell me, Sam?” His voice was surprisingly level, though from the way Sam reacted, that may not have been a good thing.</p><p>Sam shifted on his feet and cast his eyes downward. He sighed. “I drank it all in one go.”</p><p>Dean looked up at the ceiling before dropping his head low between his shoulders and shaking his head. “Sam, the whole point of this potion is to <em> keep </em> you from—” He lifted his head and wiped a hand down his face. “Man, if this goes down the same way it did with Ruby—”</p><p>“It won’t, Dean. It <em> won’t </em>,” Sam said with conviction. “I just had… a bit of a relapse.”</p><p>Dean shook his head again, rolling his eyes. “Fine. But you’re off it for a week.”</p><p>“Dean—”</p><p>“No, Sam. No. We can do without your powers for a week. I think we’ll be fine. We have an angel,” he pointed to Cas, “a demon,” Crowley, “a witch,” Rowena, “and two hunters. I think we’ll be fine.”</p><p>Sam pouted— that was the best word for it anyway— and didn’t say anything else.</p><p>Having dealt with his brother, Dean sighed and turned to address the rest of the group. He looked tired, his green eyes aged beyond his years, dark circles from sleepless nights under them. Stiles felt a pang of pity hit his chest.</p><p>Dean splayed his arms wide before dropping them to his sides. “Well, what now?”</p><p>“How about you get out of my house?” Stiles said.</p><p>“Not happening,” Dean said with a shake of his head.</p><p>“Then at least tell me what the hell is going on.”</p><p>Sam and Dean gave him a long look, their eyes wary yet almost pitiful at the same time. </p><p>“Dean—” </p><p>“I know, Cas,” Dean cut him off with a sigh, closing his eyes. “I know.” He released another pent up breath. “Take a seat,” he said with a tilt of his head towards the couch. </p><p>Stiles and Scott rounded the couch and took their seats, once again ready to listen to the brothers’ story. Only this time, Stiles got the feeling there was something they were prolonging telling them. The others followed them into the room. Sam and Dean took a seat on the coffee table across from the couch, with Rowena, Castiel, and Crowley taking up stances behind them, fanning out across the room. It kind of looked like some old-fashioned painting, despite the modern setting.</p><p>“And this time, cut through the bullshit,” Stiles gritted out, beyond tired of these people in his home. </p><p>Dean gave him an amused look. “Watch your language, kid.”</p><p>“Shut up and talk.”</p><p>Dean clenched his jaw, but he nodded. “Rowena’s telling you the truth. You’re her grandson.” Stiles ground his teeth together but otherwise remained silent. He wanted to hear this. “And that makes you… let’s just say it makes you a target.”</p><p>Stiles frowned. “Why?”</p><p>Sam sighed but continued to let his brother tell it. “There’s a lot about all this that you don’t know. So you know about werewolves— apparently, you’re friends with one— but you can’t even imagine all the shit that’s out there. Werewolves are just the tip of the iceberg. Demons, angels, witches, vampires, <em> gods </em> , ghosts… it’s <em> all </em> real. I used to think there was no such thing as Heaven, no such thing as angels, but then…” he trailed off, his eyes going distant for a moment before he shook himself out of it. He refocused on Stiles. “And the stuff that’s going on right now— it’s full-on war between us and them.”</p><p>Stiles frowned deeper. “Get to the point.” His voice was strong, but he’d be lying if Dean’s words hadn’t struck a chord of fear within him.</p><p>He shifted his gaze to Sam as he picked up where his brother had left off. “What do you know about Revelations?”</p><p>“The Bible book?” He shrugged. “Barely anything.”</p><p>“Well, in short, Lucifer has risen, and he and the angels are hell-bent on having it out and destroying the earth.”</p><p>Stiles’ eyes widened, and he cast a curious look to Scott, who looked just as confused as him. He looked back at the brothers and couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of his throat. He leaned forward and put his head in his hands. “You’ve <em> got </em>to be kidding me,” he muttered under his breath.</p><p>“We’re trying to stop them. We have been for the past five years.”</p><p>Scott shifted beside Stiles. “Five years?” he asked incredulously. “You’d think the world would have noticed a bunch of angels and demons flying around killing people, wouldn’t you?”</p><p>“People dismiss what they can’t easily explain,” Dean said, his voice conveying he’d had this conversation before.</p><p>Stiles sighed and sat up. He crossed his arms across his chest. “You still haven’t told me what makes me a target.”</p><p>Sam shifted uncomfortably. Dean averted his eyes. All odd behavior, Stiles could tell from just the short time he’d known these men that they were not easily discomforted.</p><p>“Boys?” Rowena cut in. All eyes in the room turned to her. “If you don’t mind giving me a moment alone with my grandson?”</p><p>Sam and Dean looked at each other before silently standing and leaving the room. Stiles wasn’t sure where exactly they went, but they disappeared from sight and earshot. Castiel and Crowley left more reluctantly, but they left all the same. That left Stiles, Scott, and Rowena. She turned her gaze to Scott. </p><p>“That goes for you as well.”</p><p>Scott gave Stiles an inquiring look, asking if Stiles was okay with this. He wasn’t. Not really, but he nodded anyway. Satisfied, Scott stood up and left the room as well. Unlike the others, he disappeared upstairs. When he was gone, it was just Stiles and Rowena.</p><p>The silence dragged. </p><p>Finally, Rowena took a seat in one of the chairs by the couch. It was the one his father usually sat in while he watched TV. “Your mother was a witch,” she said simply. “I had her two years after Fergus, and she was everything he was <em> not </em> . Though, to be fair… I was still not a very good mother to either of them.” She sighed. “When I discovered Claudia’s powers, I taught her all I knew, and she became a very powerful witch. Then one day, she met your father… And she decided she no longer wanted anything to do with our world. She was over a hundred years old, and she wanted to <em> settle down </em> and have a family.” Rowena shook her head. “I met your father a few days after you were born, and I met you six months later.”</p><p>His hair at the back of his neck stood on end. “When my mother was diagnosed.”</p><p>She nodded. “There was nothing the doctor’s could have done. Your mother’s illness was not natural.” Stiles frowned. “When your mother was young, she made a foolish mistake. She made a deal with a demon. However, in some regards, I suppose she was lucky the demon didn’t want anything with her soul, or she would have died long before she met your father. The deal she made concerned you, you see. Her first-born. At the time, Claudia hadn’t thought she would ever settle down, ever have children, so she didn’t think it was a risk. Even when you were born, I warned her, and she didn’t listen. Six months later, she finally knew she made a mistake, but it was too late. The demon had already come for you.”</p><p>Stiles swallowed the thick lump forming his throat. “But… but I’m… I’m confused. I’m alive, I wasn’t taken by anyone.”</p><p>“No. Because your mother stopped him.” Stiles didn’t like where this was going. “She intervened, and she nearly killed the demon. Though, in the process, she had used so much of her power so carelessly, so chaotically, for the first time in such a long time that it destroyed her mind. And for the rest of her life, she was forced to live without her power, without her sense of self.”</p><p>Stiles started shaking his head. No. <em> No </em>. Rowena was wrong. None of this was possible. “I—” his throat closed up. He took a deep breath. “So that’s the big secret, then? That’s why I’m a target?”</p><p>Rowena’s gaze softened slightly, and Stiles turned his face away, her eyes too familiar. “No. I’m afraid you’re a target because your mother wasn’t as successful in thwarting that demon as we had thought. Your mother was able to fight him off, to prevent him from killing her, but he had already done what he had come to do.”</p><p>“Which was what exactly?”</p><p>“In simple terms, he fed you some of his blood.” </p><p>Stiles’ jaw dropped. “You expect me to believe I have… <em> demon </em> blood… that I’m—”</p><p>“You <em> do </em> have it, Stiles. I can practically smell it on you.”</p><p>Stiles stood up and started pacing. “No. No, you’re— you’re lying. This, this can’t be true.”</p><p>“Your mother shielded you from him, from the rest of the world. It was the last thing she did before she lost her powers.” Stiles stopped in his tracks, his back to Rowena. “That’s why you were not previously discovered. Others were not so lucky.”</p><p>He slowly turned to face her. “Others?”</p><p>“Do you really think it’s pure luck that Samuel can exorcise demons with his mind?” </p><p>“He’s… he’s like me?”</p><p>Rowena shook her head and stood. She walked over to him and tentatively gripped his shoulders. “No one is like you, dearie. You may have demon blood in your veins, but you’re a witch first and foremost. In some ways, the two cancel each other out, though you’re likely to be more in tuned to the supernatural world than others around you.”</p><p>“I’m not a—”</p><p>“Yes, you are. I can feel your energy. It’s untamed and dormant, but it’s there.” She paused before adding in a soft voice, “It feels like your mother’s.”</p><p>A wave of grief washed over Stiles. There was silence for a few moments before it was broken by one of the others.</p><p>“We got company,” Dean said as he came back into the room, Sam, Cas, and Crowley trailing behind him. “And not the good kind.”</p><p>Rowena looked up at Stiles. “You should go.”</p><p>“Go?”</p><p>“You’re not safe here. Take your friend and leave.”</p><p>“Listen to her, kid,” Dean said, cocking his gun. “We can handle this.”</p><p>Stiles gave a clipped nod and decided to listen to them, unable or unwilling to fight them on it. He ran upstairs to his room. He knew he and Scott could sneak out through the window— they’d done it enough times. When he opened his door, he came to a halt, his blood going cold.</p><p>A man had Scott pinned to the wall with one hand. He turned his head to Stiles and gave him a cruel smile.</p><p>“Ah, lookee here. If it isn’t my long-lost protege,” the man drawled, his eyes flashing yellow.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Also, seriously, just throw out all notions of Supernatural/Teen Wolf canon, I have no idea what I'm doing woo</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hahaha lo siento if this starts to get real bad towards the end. </p><p>Thanks for reading! This will likely be a shorter multi-chapter fic (I'm thinking 10 chapters, tops, but we'll see I guess).</p><p>Find me on tumblr/instagram @thesherlockianwhojustcant.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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